She answered him with relief. “Oh yes, Rra. That is quite right. You see, I cannot seem to think of anything that we can do to help Mma Potokwane, and I thought that since you had written that book, and we all know how—”

He held up a hand. “You misjudge me, Mma Ramotswe. I’m not the man you think I am.”

She shrugged.

“Anybody can write a book …”

She brushed his objections aside. “Rra, you are very modest—and that is good too. But we do not have to talk about that. The real question is what I should do.”

Clovis Andersen sighed. “Somewhere in the book I say something about going to the source of a problem. I forget …”

“It is on page one hundred twenty-six,” said Mma Ramotswe. “The chapter is called ‘Seeing the Wood from the Trees.’ ”

Clovis Andersen nodded. “Yes, I think it’s there. I think I said something about finding out where a problem originates and then going directly there.”

“Yes, Rra. That is what you said.” She looked at him expectantly. “The source of the problem here is Mr. Ditso.”

Clovis Andersen nodded. “Yes. So you ask the question: Why is he doing this?”

Mma Ramotswe looked up at the sky. There were so many reasons for bad behaviour, for meanness and unkindness. Sometimes the explanation of such things was very simple; people caused harm to others because they were of malevolent disposition. That was sheer human wickedness, something that had always existed and always would. Some people, it seemed, derived pleasure from inflicting suffering on others, and any enquiry as to why they did it could stop there. But then there were those other cases where the real explanation lay elsewhere, where there was some quite different motive in play—greed, ambition, a grudge … There was so much to choose from.

“He wants to build a new hall at the orphan farm,” she said. “He wants the children to eat in one place and save money. It’s cheaper, you see, to cook all the meals in one place.”

Clovis Andersen considered this. “Is he a frugal man, this Mr. Ditso? Does he live simply?”

Mma Ramotswe smiled. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s words were coming back to her. “My husband could answer that, I think, Rra. He says that you can tell what a person is like by looking at his car.”

This seemed to interest Clovis Andersen. “He’s got something there, Mma Ramotswe. Yes, he’s certainly got something there.” He paused. “So, what sort of car has our friend got? Something simple?”

“No, Rra. It is very fancy. Fancy and shiny.”

Clovis Andersen absorbed this. “So maybe he doesn’t want just to save money. Maybe he wants to spend it.”

Mma Ramotswe pointed out that it was not Mr. Ditso’s money that would be spent: it would be the orphan farm’s.